Kent Farm mailbox. Inside the house, Bo Duke and MamaKent are talking about money issues as Clark comes down the stairs. They're talking about stuff like scholarships. To wit: "A scholarship would be great," Bo says heartily. Clark asks what they're doing. Bo, looking at some brochures, says that now that they have the farm finances under control (they do?), they're trying to figure out how they're going to pay for Clark's college. Strong Man Contests? Human Tractor Pulls? Eye-to-Eye LASIK surgeries? "If you ever graduate from high school," MamaKent says snarkily. Bo says that Principal Asskick called and said Clark's been chronically late. It would be funny if he was late because of The Chronic. Bo says Asskick asked if there was some emergency at the farm. He takes a sip from the bovine cup, the one that always runneth over. Clark drinks a tall glass of OJ instead and says he's been spending some time at the caves. Bo says he knows how much they mean to Clark, but until he clears things up at school, he doesn't want Clark going down there. "No, Dad!" Clark says, getting up from his chair a little. Bo cuts him off and tells him not to argue. Bo says he wants Clark's butt in the house every day after school. Just his butt? I don't know that anyone has discounted butt separation as a future superpower. "Just give me till tomorrow," Clark says. "No," Bo fires back. "It's really important," Clark growls. MamaKent asks what's up. "I've got a date," he says. And under his breath as he gets up, "With Lana." MamaKent and Bo look at each other with astonishment. "A study date?" Bo asks. Way to cut the willie off your son, Bo. "An actual date," Clark says. MamaKent totally leaps into action, whispering urgently to Bo that they have to let him go. It's hilarious. Clark half-smiles. Bo makes Clark promise to get his chores and homework done before he goes. MamaKent beams. So does Clark. "Absolutely," he says. Bo agrees. "Thanks, Mom," Clark says, and goes off. Bo bellows for Clark to tell Pete to stop cutting donuts out in the field. "He's scaring the cattle!" Bo yells. I (heart) that line.
House of Lex. A nerd guy with a really thin, tall face, reminiscent of Beaker's from The Muppets, pulls a book from a shelf. Lex, wearing a smart dark shirt, walks in and thanks the guy for coming on such short notice. When you're providing that level of pleasure, there's no need for thanks, Lex. It turns out it's the professor who wrote the hieroglyphics book Clark was reading it. The professor says it's not often he's offered his weekly rate for a ten-minute consultation. He says he can't take on any new "endeavors" at this time. No one nice that I know calls stuff that they do "endeavors." Lex asks when the professor can start. "Next year," he says snidely. Lex asks if he can start tomorrow. Professor Snideface says he's going to Chile. I bet he's just going to Chili's for some southwestern chicken alfredo. Lex says he's sure Snideface can postpone his trip. Snideface says it's out of the question. I hate him and his snide face. "If you want the foremost authority in a field," Snideface says, as if talking to a deaf, dumb, and legless dog pulling a sled carrying a small, retarded child with scoliosis and bad dandruff, "you learn to wait." Lex says that, in his experience, when you want the best, you simply pay them what they're worth. Lex hands over a check. He should just keep oversized Publisher's Clearinghouse-sized checks behind his desk to make it a little more dynamic. Snideface says that rich men with delusions of grandeur rarely sway him with a checkbook. He tears up the check. See? He couldn't have done that so easily with a 5-foot-by-12-foot check. Lex hands over a brown envelope. "Does this sway you?" he asks. Snideface starts flipping through some photos of the cave drawings. After looking at two, he can already tell that they're "quite unique." He says it doesn't appear to be Native North American. "Or Mayan, for that matter," he says. Damn! I was hoping Clark and I might be related. He looks closely at the drawing of the snake wrapped around the figure that Clark is supposed to represent. I think the origins may be Pacific Northwestern Production Design Department. "These are. Amazing," Snideface says.